


Sometimes, You're an Idiot all the Time

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [25]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: By request, have some... Have a boomer and his common sense husband.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 23
Kudos: 207





	Sometimes, You're an Idiot all the Time

“He _has_ to be up to something,” Alfor growls, pacing his quarters. “I just don’t know what.”

“Who are we talking about?” Coran looks up from his datapad. Lance requested some research on potential trade avenues. Specifically, he wants to know why they were discarded. Coran had been delighted for an opportunity to help his son, delighted that Lance had reached out.

“ _Keith_ ,” Alfor spits.

Coran sighs, hanging his head. “Darling, you can’t be serious.”

“He is the _enemy_ ,” Alfor hisses, trying to impress upon his husband the entirely nonexistent gravity of the situation.

“Really?” Coran turns in his spinning chair, sending his son a file and tossing his datapad onto his desk. 

“Yes, really.”

“Okay, Alfor. Dearest. Darling. Light of my life. Star of my sky. Explain it to me. Explain to me how a nineteen-decaphoebs-old kit is our enemy. The same kit who is currently training a platoon of our troops for castle defense. The same kit who is currently holding court alongside Lance every movement now. The same kit who studies in the library, tries to learn our laws and customs, and has begun making mindful alterations to be enacted on the first of the decaphoeb, in accordance with _our_ legal process. Let’s hear it.”

“He’s dangerous. He's vicious. He threw a soldier across the room! He's a trained killer-”

“Enough.” Coran sighs. How can he get this through his husband’s thick, paranoid, traumatized head? He gets up, grabs Alfor’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

Out in the gardens, walking the path, Coran gives it a few minutes to let the fresh air reach his beloved moron’s overly suspicious brain.

“Alright. So you went to speak with Keith. Is that correct?”

“Yes. Why?”

“So what did you learn about him?”

“That he hates me.” Coran winces. “Also, he didn’t have friends back on Daibazaal. One has to wonder why…”

“Just the facts, darling.”

“Also, he’s a trained killer. He’s a supreme fighter. I watched him from the shadows not a varga ago! He talks about killing the way you talk about the properties of scaultrite! Lance doesn’t have a chance against him!”

“Uh-huh.”

“I caught him earlier _flirting_ with our son! Our! Son!” 

“Oh, for- Alfor, they’re married! That’s a _good_ thing.”

Alfor grumbles, scowling. Coran sighs.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t know what his schemes are, what he might do to Lance. That’s our son, Coran!”

“Okay, so, underneath all of those paranoid ramblings, what I’m hearing is that you’re worried that Keith will hurt our son because he is an insidious, evil little monster capable of destroying the world.”

“Now you understand!”

Coran smiles, shakes his head. He really does love this man. Even if he’s being a… what did Keith call Lady Renli the other quintant? Ah, of course. Even if he’s being a ‘fucking idiot’.

“I think I understand,” Coran murmurs, squeezing Alfor’s hand. “It’s been quite hard for you, hasn’t it, learning to treat your lifelong enemies as friends? Then, you’re expected to welcome one into your home, and into your family. In addition, you give him your son, your legacy and heir. Lance is at his mercy, and seems to be getting attached.”

“Well, that’s-”

“I am so very proud of you. You’ve grown so much.”

“Thank you-”

“But you _are_ in the wrong. You’ve only been thinking of him as a Galra. Let’s try thinking about him as a person, okay? You’ve had a conversation with him. You’ve watched his behavior. What have you learned about our son-in-law?”

“He’s…” Alfor wracks his brains. “Young. Just a kit. Too young to be married, obviously.”

“Generally, yes. We prefer that people are adults before they get married.”

“He’s, uh. Shy. Quiet. Smart. Fierce, which is contradictory with shy and quiet but holds true. Uh. Inexperienced?” Alfor’s heart drops into his stomach. “Inexperienced…”

Coran smiles. “Yes, darling. Now, you have your idea of _what_ Keith is, so perhaps you could take a moment to consider an alternative perspective on _who_ he is?”

“Okay,” Alfor mumbles, appropriately abashed.

Change gets harder as they get older. Coran's been lucky enough to have lived an extremely varied life. It makes him more adaptable than his husband. Alfor's only ever really been two things: a soldier and a scholar.

“Imagine, if you will, a child taken from his family and home, arranged to marry, live, and share a bed with a powerful stranger with a less than stellar reputation. This child is out of his depth, drowning in culture and responsibility he was not at all prepared for. Do you really imagine that child is a cold-hearted, calculating spy?”

“No. He-” Alfor’s shoulders drop. “He’s probably very scared.”

“I think that’s an accurate inference. Can you even imagine how he must have felt when Lance pulled him away at the wedding banquet? What he believed was about to happen to him? And yet, that boy went anyway. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have been half so brave.”

“Killing Lance probably would have been easier for him,” Alfor murmurs. He knows something of Galran mating bonds. If he really thinks about it, that’s a brutal reality to stare in the face. Bonded to someone who does not love you.

“I imagine Keith feels much the same way. Or did, some phoebs ago.” Coran smiles. “You know what I think?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you’re projecting. You’re frustrated that you don’t have a good relationship with your son and you’re jealous that Keith is forming one.”

“That’s completely unfounded. I have no problems at all! With anything!”

Coran smiles, sly. “Right. So you’re saying you have no problem being virtual strangers with your son while he and Keith go chastely kiss all over the grounds? They’ll probably make love for the first time in the grotto where you taught him to swim and think nothing of it at all-”

“That’s cruel, love.”

“But my point is made, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Your point is made.” Alfor sighs. “He’s my boy. Allura does better without me, but Lance…”

“It gets to him. I know.” Coran lifts their joined hands, presses a kiss to the back of Alfor’s. He sits them down on a bench under a singing tree.

“Keith says that Lance wants to be a hero.”

Coran chuckles. “I wonder where he gets that from." Alfor offers a weak, sad smile. "He wants you to be proud of him, too.”

“I _am_ proud of him! I see how smart he is, how hard he’s working on his marriage, how hard he’s working in court! I’m seeing it! I’m seeing _him_ and it’s beautiful!”

“Have you told him that?” Coran asks, holding one of Alfor’s hands between his in his lap.

“Yes!” Alfor’s face falls. “I just don’t think he believed me.”

“Well, maybe it’s not enough.” Coran sighs as Alfor wilts. “Maybe you need to _show_ him. Show him you’re interested in his life. I think once you've begun to repair your relationship with Lance, you'll feel better about Keith.”

“I… At this point, I wouldn’t even know how. The last time Lance and I had a real conversation about something, he was nine, telling me about how he wanted to live on the back of a cosmic whale.”

“That sounds quiznaking awesome, actually. You just need to find an opening. Then, ask him a question. A simple one. ‘What have you been working on lately?’ ‘How are things going with Keith?’ ‘Do you have any ideas for the Frost Ball?’ Just show that you’re interested in his life and how he’s doing. He loves you, Alfor. Just as much as I do.”

Not sure of how else to convey all the feelings in his chest, Alfor pulls his husband in for an embrace. One that is returned without question or thought. It’s a given, but never taken for granted, that affection offered is affection returned.

Love is a complicated thing. Alfor himself had married and fathered his first child while watching his eccentric adviser charm the court with tales of various interstellar adventures. Inevitably, Alfor had found himself charmed as well. It was ultimately a newly expecting, deeply amused Melinor who told him to go for it. He had, quietly, and found his life beautifully enriched.

In spite of complicated circumstances, some things never change. Adventurer, adviser, lover, husband, king- Whatever they are to each other, Alfor is the provider and protector. Coran is the heart of everything. He feels like home, even after all these years.

The embrace doesn’t last long. The thing about getting older is feeling time slip through their fingers. And they _have_ gotten older. Alfor’s forehead is lined with centaphoebs of worry just as Coran’s eyes are lined with smiles. Besides, there’s little to convey here that hasn’t already been conveyed, that isn’t conveyed in every breath they’ve taken since the very first time Alfor took his hand all those decaphoebs ago.

Coran hums, something catching his eye. Alfor twists on their bench. It’s Lance, smiling as he leads Keith by the hand through the hole in the garden wall. As they watch, Lance whispers something in the Galra prince’s ear. Whatever it is, it makes the Galra laugh, small and quiet. Alfor notes the way his indigo and gold eyes light up as he smiles at Lance.

He feels a very specific kind of heartbreak.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Lance sells his soul for his people.


End file.
